


Wooing with Puns, Part 1

by lostinthegoldenpines



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Fish Puns, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthegoldenpines/pseuds/lostinthegoldenpines
Summary: Moomin was in a mood, a rather silly mood. Snufkin could tell this instantly as the round troll danced his way down the house path towards their bridge.





	1. Chapter 1

Moomin was in a mood, a rather silly mood. Snufkin could tell this instantly as the round troll danced his way down the house path towards their bridge. Snufkin was sitting down in his usual fishing spot, feeling far too lazy to move somewhere better. He wasn’t too focused on fishing if he was honest, he had been distracted by every little butterfly or dragon fly that had flittered past him or landed on his pole. He wasn’t feeling to terrible sleepy either, so he hadn’t laid on the soft grass to take a nap. There was a certain energy to the air, but he just couldn’t place it. For feeling so lazy, he realized he also felt restless. His left leg, he noticed, was bouncing ever so slightly. He looked up as Moomin plopped down next to him, a silly hum hitched on his breath.

“How goes it, Moomin?”

“Not bad, cod be doing better though.” Moomin tried to pull a nonchalant face, but a giggle slipped out.

Snufkin raised an eyebrow, turning to face Moomin. Moomin’s shoulders were shaking with mirth and his wonderful blue eyes were absolutely singing with mischief. Snufkin’s heart did a slight back flip at the joyous sight of Moomin, and he did his best to hide his blush.

“Cod be, huh?” Snufkin mused. He glanced at a small green book that Moomin was holding behind his back. The words were hidden by Moomin’s paws, but Snufkin did make out the word puns, and he stifled a groan. Fishermen puns? Well then, he had better make himself comfortable. “I’ve had cod now and then. Made a delicious stew.”

“I’ve always enjoyed your stews, Snufkin. Little My made stew for dinner last night.” Moomin said slowly and deliberately. Resting his chin on his arm, Snufkin watched Moomin trying to contain his chuckles. Not for the first time, Snufkin was enraptured by how utterly adorable Moomin was.

“Oh really? How nice. How was it?”

“I didn’t try it to be honest,” Moomin leaned in as if he were about to share a great secret. “It seemed a bit fishy to me.” He then flopped on his back and roared with laughter, hiding the book no longer a concern.

Snufkin chuckled with a slow shake of his head as he studied the cover of the little book. “Oh really Moomin, fishermen puns? At me?”

“I found it in Papa’s study and instantly thought of you! I had to try some out on you.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.” Snufkin felt very pleased that Moomin had instantly thought of him. “Either way, it was a great oppor-tuna-ity to hear some truly terrible puns.”

Moomin sat straight up and stared at Snufkin for a precious moment before absolutely howling with laughter. He fell on his back and kicked his legs in the air, rolling around, holding his shaking tummy as his entire body vibrated with gayety. Feeling clever for getting such a reaction, Snufkin himself started laughing a bit harder, his fishing rod shaking in his hands.

“Why, Snufkin, you’re just as gill-ty of puns as I am.” Moomin giggled, wiping away at the tears brimming in his eyes.

This brought on a new burst of howls and Snufkin had to place down his fishing rod for fear of dropping it in the water. Holding his sides, Snufkin laughed heartily; perhaps laughing more than he had in years. Sensing this, Moomin crawled even closer, his breath hitching with giggles as he tried to string together more puns.

“I suppose with you liking puns, any-fin is possible. Maybe I’ve got you hooked at this point?” Tail wagging as he crawled closer, Moomin’s snout was almost pressed against Snufkin’s cheek. Waving him away, Snufkin tried to escape, but he was laughing too hard to move. “Maybe I should stop? It could get a-trout-cious if I keep going.”

“S-stop! Please!” Snufkin wailed, flopping on to his back, tears streaming down his face. He could barely giggle at this point, breathing was almost impossible. He rolled over to see Moomin’s eager face, tail wagging ridiculously fast in the air above. Thankfully, Moomin stopped with the puns. Snufkin took awhile to gather himself together. To be honest, he couldn’t remember if he had ever laughed that hard in the entirety of his life.

“Did I reel you in? Shall you be my catch of the day?”

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop, you silly troll?” Snufkin huffed, whipping off his hat and slamming it over Moomin’s face, despite the protests. Face red, Snufkin had to calm down his racing heart. The utter look of adoration and desire Moomin had given Snufkin while saying the last puns were almost a bit too much for the mumrik to handle. Lifting the rim of the hat, Snufkin caught the wink that Moomin offered him.

Oh. Oh ho. It was like that, was it? Two could absolutely play at that game.

They had been flirting a lot more this year, or rather Moomin had actually been reciprocating the flirtations and it left Snufkin a bit flustered, to be honest. Snufkin wasn’t sure when either of them had grown so bold, but he was going to take advantage of it now.

Swiftly the mumrik swung his leg over Moomin, straddling Moomin’s back. He began to gently but firmly wiggle his fingers across Moomin’s ribcage, down his wonderfully round sides were stomach rolls poofed out. Moomin squealed and tried to wiggle away, Snufkin’s hat still blinding him.

“Let’s see, I appear to have caught a nice big plump Moomintroll.” Snufkin said loudly over Moomin’s protests. “Shall I fillet him or grill him?”

“Snufkin! Please! I’m begging you!” Moomin whined, kicking his feet. But Snufkin was strong and kept his seat, trailing up to Moomin’s armpits. This earned him a higher giggle and he was finally knocked from his perch. He grappled for Moomin’s dainty foot while Moomin tried to make an escape.

“Perhaps he shall make a tasty stew?” Snufkin laughed freely.

“Perhaps you should just kiss him already!”

Snufkin and Moomin froze in their antics, looking up at the bridge. Little My was sitting on the rail of the bridge, looking down at them in utter disgust and exhaustion.

“You two been flirting for weeks—no no, years—on end, and I think we’re all just wondering when you’re finally going to kiss.” Little My then stood up and bit sharply into a perfectly red apple she had been holding. “The tension between you two is filling this valley with humidity. Do something about it already.” She then hopped down from the bridge and trudged off where only one could imagine.

Both Moomin and Snufkin were terribly red in the face, and panting from struggling with each other. Feeling as if his body were on fire and frankly quite mortified, Snufkin suddenly flung himself into the river, sinking down to the bottom before grabbing hold to a rock at the bottom to keep the current from dragging him away, though he didn’t think that was such a terrible idea either. He heard a splash and saw Moomin swimming overhead. Snorting bubbles out of his nose, Snufkin pushed off and went to the surface. Moomin was already pulling himself up the bank. Snufkin dragged himself up, not really feeling that much better. They both flopped out in the sun, looking up at the clouds above and not saying a word. Snufkin wasn’t sure what he should say. To have been so brutally called out by Little My? Horrid. Absolutely horrid. Yet. From the way she made it sound, Moomin had been flirting with him for awhile now too. He had thought as much, but still. How was he supposed to respond?

Moomin giggled. Frowning a bit, Snufkin turned to view him better.

“What?”

“That cloud looks like a minnow.”

Looking up at the sky to where Moomin was pointing, Snufkin had to agree. It did indeed look like the minnows he fished.

“So it does.” He glanced over and saw Moonmin’s closest paw. He could easily reach out and touch it. Settling back down, Snufkin made less-than-subtle movements that brought him a bit closer to Moomin. Face red, he pointed towards the sky, selecting a random cloud. “That one looks like a heart.” The sentence died on his tongue, for it looked like a large heart indeed. Moomin made a sound of agreement. Ever so slowly, Snufkin lowered his hand until it rested over Moomin’s paw. Moomin’s paw wiggled around until their fingers were able to intertwine. He squeezed gently. Snufkin felt very giddy and light headed. “I suppose this would be a hook, line, and sinker.”

“At least I can confidently say you weren’t the one that got away.” Moomin quipped.

“You’re quite the clever and splendid Moomin.” Snufkin laughed, squeezing his hand around Moomin’s paw again.

“O-oh. My. Well then. Thank you.”

“Are you…are you flustered?” Snufkin teased, incredulously nonetheless. He looked over and indeed Moomin was quite pink.

“Oh hush or I’ll hide forever under your hat.” Moomin threatened.

“You’re adorable.”

“Not as adorable as you are! You’re so much cuter!”

Snufkin laughed harder, his sides aching, his face wonderfully flushed.

Eventually the two love sick fools fell asleep, their fingers intertwined and their hearts full.


	2. Wooing with Puns, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin felt a bit frustrated as he walked out of moominhouse, pausing to look over at Snufkin’s campsite. His fishing puns had worked on Snufkin, making the vagabond laugh his ever so wonderful laugh...

Moomin felt a bit frustrated as he walked out of moominhouse, pausing to look over at Snufkin’s campsite. His fishing puns had worked on Snufkin, making the vagabond laugh his ever so wonderful laugh. They had flirted and held hands when Little My called them out on their antics. Then Joxter had shown up and dragged Snufkin off on a war against some park keeper somewhere and Moomin hadn’t seen his friend in for a few weeks now. Friend wasn’t the only word to describe what Snufkin meant to Moomin, but he wasn’t ready to select it either. Crush was not enough to convey the tender feelings he harbored, and the word lover felt too passionate and risqué. Flushing what the implications of what that meant, Moomin tried to shake images out of his head before they took root. Boyfriend had a lovely ring to it, but it needed to be consensual and Snufkin wasn’t even around to give his opinion. Moomin felt a bit like a pining woman searching the moors for her lover through the thick blankets of fog and mists. Snorting, Moomin rolled his eyes and flopped down on the porch step, his tail wagging irritably.

“Perhaps if I sit on the bridge very quietly, I might hear Snufkin’s music coming from his tent and he’ll come out with that beautiful smile of his and say ‘Hullo there Moomin, been awhile hasn’t it?’.” Moomin sighed, his heart pining to see Snufkin, to hear his soft but firm voice, to—

“Or I could just play it here for you, if you like.”

Moomin squeaked as he jumped in shock, falling off the steps. Adjusting himself he looked up over his nose to see Snufkin grinning down at him, harmonica to his lips as he pulled out a note or two.

“Snufkin!” Moomin got this feet and flung himself into Snufkin’s un-expecting arms. “I’ve missed you so much! How are you? Were you arrested? I was so worried!”

“I’m fine, I promise Moomin,” Snufkin winced, the hug actually painful. “Could you hold me less tightly? You’re crushing my already bruised ribcage.”

“I’ll hug you as softly and as tenderly as you want me t—bruised ribcage? What have you and the Joxter been up to this time?” Moomin swiftly let go, gently patting down Snufkin’s ribs. Snufkin just snorted instead, wiggling away from the touch. He booped Moomin on the nose.

“Okay, perhaps that was a bit of a fib—”

“Snufkin!”

“Tibia honest, you were about to bruise my ribs though.” He took Moomin’s paw in his hand.

“Wait was that a pun? A bone pun?”

“Have you had breakfast yet? If not, might you join me? I’m rather egg-cellent at breakfast food now.” Snufkin only continued on jovially.

A bit flushed from laughing and how coyly Snufkin was flirting, Moomin agreed. Instead of going to Snufkin’s campsite however, they went up towards Lonely Mountains, the whole while climbing up, they continued their hold, their paw-in-hand, gently swinging them back and forth as they climbed. Moomin knew his tail was wagging from pure delight, but he tried to keep it hidden from Snufkin. Snufkin was chatting amiably about his trip with the Joxter, about how they had adventures that led them to new towns and mountain ranges and secret lakes. Moomin could only hum in agreement, focusing on how soft Snufkin’s skin was, how lovely his fingers felt intertwined with his own. They didn’t go to their usual spot on Lonely Mountains but instead headed into the dense forest, where at times the sun wasn’t able to touch the ground and would remain dark and forbidding. Yet Snufkin kept to the lighter paths and soon they found a clearing.

Moomin halted and stared, rubbing his free paw over his eyes. There knelt the Joxter, blowing onto the bonfire that had been built. Moominmama was washing off a large tomato with her apron, humming as she did so.

“Mama?”

“Oh dear!” Moominmama dropped the tomato and it rolled over to the Joxter who picked it up, wiped it off on his smock and placed it on the food pile next to him. His blue eyes gleamed brightly against the green forest around them, and he gave the two boys a knowing grin while Moominmama pretended she wasn’t embarrassed. “Sorry my dears, I don’t think we realized what time it was.”

“That, and this bonfire took a bit longer to make than I thought.” Joxter waved to the bonfire, which indeed looked very stunning. Stones were piled high and kept together with mud for the mortar, a cooking spit for a cauldron over it, a grill over the now growing flames. Around them was a bounty of food no doubt from Moominmama’s cupboards and gardens. Fresh vegetables, pastries, fruits, and eggs were gathered neatly in sturdy woven baskets.

“Snufkin, what’s going on?” Moomin asked, very confused. But Snufkin looked a bit angry as he looked on.

“Good question, Moomin, what is going on, Papa?” Snufkin hissed. He then looked sheepishly at Moominmama. “This isn’t directed at you, Mama. It’s very lovely indeed. I’m just surprised since someone was told not to come.”

“My dearest son, you know very well how much I love doing the opposite of what I’m told,” Joxter grinned. Snufkin slapped a palm over his face while the Joxter laughed. Moominmama coughed politely and Joxter nodded, whipping off his hat and producing flowers for both Moomin and Snufkin. “Moominmama was so very kind enough to bring vases, so make sure you put them in there quickly. Have a lovely picnic!” Joxter cartwheeled away from them and landed next to Moominmama, cutting an elegant leg while he offered her his arm. She gave a curtsey with her apron and accepted, placing a lively flower crown upon her brow and then on the Joxter’s hat. “I’ve spread out a nice blanket for you both and brought up some freshly ground coffee grounds. All the pots and pans you need should be here too. Enjoy!” She paused to kiss Moomin and Snufkin on their foreheads, placing flower crowns on them both as well. Joxter offered kisses as well and nearly was punched in the nose by Snufkin. Laughing, Joxter escorted Mama out of sight. Moomin stood in the forest, watching their perspective parents until they were out of sight, grasping the flower vase in his grasp.

“Snufkin?” Moomin turned. Snufkin was staring rather unhappily at the large amount of hustle and bustle that had been placed into his campsite. Moomin felt a bit worried and tugged on Snufkin’s sleeve. “Snufkin? Are you alright?”

“Ah, well. You know me. I’m not one for much fuss. Yet, as much as I hate to admit, I appreciate their gestures. No matter how unneeded I think it seems.” Snufkin sighed, turning to Moomin. “Why don’t you sit down on the blanket and I’ll get to cooking?”

“Can I help?”

“The last time you cooked breakfast you accidentally put gunpowder in the pancakes.” Snufkin chuckled as he selected his cooking supplies, prepping them.

Moomin huffed. “It was only once I’ll have you know.” Moomin huffed. Snufkin laughed as he began cutting up the food. “Snufkin, what is all going on? Why this spread? It’s lovely but I’m so confused.”

“Well Moomin, uh, I was doing a lot of thinking on my trip with my Papa.” Snufkin said, concentrating on slicing up some mushrooms. “A lot of thinking. About the day with the fish puns and what Little My said.”

“Oh. Ohh.” Moon’s ears were turning red, not certain as to where this conversation was going.

“I have to say Moomin. I’ve been truly thinking about it all. And honestly, there’s just so mushroom in my heart for you.” Snufkin tossed the mushrooms into the buttered skillet sitting over the fire on the grill. The mushrooms sizzled and popped in the skillet. Moomin’s breathed hitched.

“What?”

Snufkin began to chop up more vegetables rather rapidly, his face looking very red, but Moomin couldn’t tell if it was from the proximity of the fire or from what he had just said. Moomin’s heart felt like it was doing flip flops. Yet there was a tiny, terrible part of him that wanted to push more from Snufkin. To join in, in fact. So Moomin grabbed two empty mugs and poured them full of the enticing coffee and presented the mug to Snufkin. Snufkin paused and looked up at Moomin, his face and neck flushed, a redder blush creeping across the murmrik’s ears and nose. Moomin wanted to kiss Snufkin all over the face.

“Snufkin, words cannot espresso how much you mean to me.” Throwing back his head and laughing, Snufkin slapped his knee. Moonin laughed along. “You must really loaf me to set this all up to woo me with puns, food, and flowers.”

“Is it working?” Snufkin asked, plopping more food into the skillet.

Moomin plucked a leaf from his flower crown and held it help, Snufkin’s soft brown amber eyes following the leaf as it lazily spiraled to the mossy ground beneath. Moomin’s heart skipped a beat watching the beautiful murmrik-mymble as he stirred the food.

“You could say I’ve fallen for you, yes.” Moomin chuckled.

Moomin was shocked when Snufkin tackled him to the ground, Snufkin’s hat and flower crown flopping off his head. He was hugging Moomin tightly, rubbing his face into Moomin’s chest and shoulder. Moomin knew his entire face was no longer white but an array of pinks and reds. Moomin felt a purr escaping out of his chest.

“Sn-Snufkin?”

“Moomin, I absolutely relish our times together. I always have. And I love you. I love you so much. I love you from my head to-ma-toes.”

Moomin roared with laughter, wrapping his arms around Snufkin and holding him close, his eyes watering up. They both began purring.

“I just pancake my eyes off of you, Snufkin.”

Snufkin groaned into Moomin’s neck, Moomin’s body shivering at the touch of Snufkin’s lips on his fur and neck. Snufkin rolled off, snatching up his hat and returned to the skillet.

“Don’t go bacon my heart, Snufkin.” Moomin grinned, his face red, his heart racing, his tail wagging, his eyes watering. He was in absolute bliss.

“I couldn’t if I fried,” Snufkin cracked an egg open over the skillet. “By the way is scramble okay with you?”

“You’re wonderful.”

“What?”

“Gah, that sounds wonderful.Yes. What you said.” Moomin took off his flower crown and hid behind it. When puns weren’t being used like body armor, he felt terribly shy.

“Hey Moomin, could you come here for a moment please? I need your help. Can you bring your flower crown?”

“Oh, certainly. What’s up?” Moomin fetched the crown and appeared by Snufkin’s side.

Moomin saw stars as Snufkin rubbed his nose against Moomin’s snout. “I think we make a rather good pear, Moomin. Like we’re mint to be. Um…” Snufkin trailed off as their noses kept rubbing together. Moomin faintly felt like he should help but he was a bit too far gone at that point. “Might I try a Mymble kiss on you, Moomin?”

“What’s a Mymble kiss?” Moomin asked rather breathlessly. He couldn’t imagine anything better than a Moomin kiss.

“You gotta look up. It’s for our tu-lips.” Snufkin pulled back and plucked a tulip from his own flower crown, pressing the petals against his mouth. He paused to stir the skillet. Moomin craned his neck up, as he looked up at the sky. He briefly wondered if he had brushed his teeth enough that morning.

“Like this?”

Moomin felt an explosion of fireworks in his heart and stomach, tingles run up and down his spine as Snufkin’s soft lips brushed up against his. They lingered, they nipped a bit, and Moomin had to sit down suddenly, so very light headed.

“Are you alright Moomin?” Snufkin dropped to his knees, spatula in one hand, his other hand cupping Moomin’s face.

“Berry much so. And you?” came Moomin’s hazy answer as he popped a nearby strawberry into his mouth, trying not to melt into a puddle on the floor. Snufkin laughed and kissed Moomin on the cheek.

“Berry much the same!”

“Snufkin the food is on fire.”

“Oh!” Snufkin whipped his head around to look at the skillet. The skillet was fine. Moomin rubbed his nose against the soft cheek of Snufkin.

“Revenge!” He muttered as Snufkin laughed, both of them a blushing mess as they tried to finish the cooking.


End file.
